


Empty Hands

by PeaceHeather



Series: Marvel 'verse [8]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Community: norsekink, Gen, Prompt Fill, Proving I really can still write one-shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceHeather/pseuds/PeaceHeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on Norsekink: "Pre-Thor AU. Asgardian bodies are full of a type of magic that gives them their "god"-like powers, even if they do not like to acknowledge it as such (this magic power is what Odin removed from Thor when he turned him into a mortal). When someone goes out of their way to save another person's life, the magic in the saved person's body recognizes owing their savior a life-debt. However, this knowledge of this fact has faded from the Asgardian's minds over the centuries. One day Thor, Loki, and the Warriors 4 are sent on a diplomatic mission to a land where the people are quite sensitive to magic. These people, to everyone's surprise, only are willing to deal with Loki. They can detect that Thor and the Warriors owe many, many life-debts to Loki (a knife thrown at the right moment in battle, shielding them with magic, hiding their escape, combating curses, over and over again as they rush into battle without care). The people of this planet figure anyone who owes so many life debts to another has to be careless and incompetent. How do Loki, Thor, and the Warriors react when they learn of this?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nothing Is Nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807560) by [Shi_Toyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu). 



> I am taking a personal vacation right now, and turning it into a writer's retreat. My friend Shi_Toyu joined me for a couple days, and we decided it would be fun for both of us to take one prompt and fill it in different ways. This is mine. Hers is called "Nothing Is Nothing" and you can look it up as soon as she posts it, which ought to be later today.
> 
> I also wanted to prove to myself that I was still capable of writing a one-shot, so here you go!
> 
> If you want to leave extra kudos, you're welcome to stop by [my Tumblr blog](http://peaceheather.tumblr.com) and say hello.

"I told you this was a foolish idea!" Loki grunted as he ducked the swiping paws of… whatever manner of beast this was. Something large, and predatory, and apparently _extremely_ territorial, given the way it had attacked them the minute Volstagg had leaned against a particular tree stump covered in claw marks.

"You always say that!" laughed Fandral, leaping over another fallen tree to try and get behind the creature.

"Because it's always true!" There was a wailing, undulating cry, and then an entire pack of the creatures came and joined the battle. "You see?!"

Thor only laughed and swung his axe, catching one creature across the jaw but only managing to stun it for a moment; before he could finish it off, another of the beasts leaped over its back to topple Thor to the ground. Thor, the great oaf, only laughed harder. Of course.

"Thor, we may have a problem," called Sif, putting her back to Volstagg and slicing her blade through the air so fast it sang. As hard as she swung, the weapon only managed to wound the beast attacking her, a long shallow cut along one shoulder. A moment later, that creature ducked back and another took its spot, moving even faster than Sif could follow. "There are too many of them!"

"You sound like Loki," Thor called, rolling one dead beast off of him only to be bowled over by another.

"Maybe that's because Loki is actually paying attention," she grunted, but Thor didn't hear her. Louder, she called, "Look how they move. They're smart!"

"Aye," cried Volstagg, "they fight nearly as well as men!" Then he cried out again as his arm was bloodied, switching his weapon to his good hand to continue the fight.

"And yet no man fights as well as we!" said Thor.

"Even we can lose sometimes," said Loki. He flung a dagger into the eye of the creature currently bounding off a boulder toward Thor's unprotected back; the beast screamed and fell dead, but its momentum carried it into Thor and made him stagger anyway.

"You whine like a woman!" said Thor, and Loki growled and spun away from him.

"Watch your tongue," said Sif. The beast she was fighting fell dead also, but its death cry seemed to be a summons for even more of its fellows to come and join the attack. They were surrounded now by over a dozen large, angry, _intelligent_ predators, had only managed to take down three of them, and were growing tired quickly.

"Fandral, come take my right—Fandral?" At the sound of Volstagg's voice, Loki looked around and saw Fandral collapsed face down at the side of a boulder, with two of the animals working together to try and drag him off. Loki's eyes grew wide, and with a bolt of magic, he blasted them both off of his friend, sending them tumbling.

Sif grunted and staggered into him, nearly knocking them both down. He turned to glare at her and saw her face pale, and blood streaming from a blow to the side of her head.

"Thor, get over here _now!_ "

"I'm a little busy—"

"So are we, don't be an idiot!" When there was no answer, Loki spun around and got two more daggers off at the beast Thor was engaged with; one missed, and the other didn't wound the animal very badly, but it still gave Hogun room to grab Thor by the collar and start hauling him backward so that they were all grouped together instead of scattered across the clearing.

"What do you think you're—"

"I'm getting us out of here, now shut up!" He hated this spell; hated using it, hated the aftereffects, and especially…

There was a lurch, and darkness, as Loki gathered the threads of seidr, wrapped them around his friends, and _yanked_.

The world spun out of control, but Loki held, held, held, found a place that said _safe,_ and let go the threads, tumbling them all out onto the grass.

"Loki! Why did you do that?"

"Ugh, my head, I swear you do that on purpose—"

"Bah, to run away from a handful of dumb beasts, what sort of—"

… _especially_ hated the reaction it got from the overbearing, bloodthirsty, thoughtless imbeciles he was unfortunate enough to call friends.

Ordinarily, Loki would grit his teeth and just tolerate their supposedly good-natured teasing, but not today.

"Shut. _Up_."

They were all so shocked—those who were still conscious, anyway—that they actually did.

"That handful of dumb beasts, as you put it, Volstagg, was actually over a dozen highly intelligent predators, who were continually calling more of their kind to their aid. You said yourself they fought like men. We were unprepared for battle and they ambushed us—"

"We would have been fine," Volstagg started to bluster, with Thor nodding emphatically, but Loki sliced a hand through the air and they both went quiet again.

"Volstagg. You're bleeding. Sif is barely conscious. Fandral _isn't_ conscious, and they were dragging him off somewhere to store up a tree so they could eat him later! Thor thought it would be a greater challenge and more _fun_ to come here without Mjolnir. We were outnumbered and outfought, and nearly died, but if you want to stand there and yammer like, like bickering _fishwives_ because I've once again made sure you're still alive, then by all means go ahead. Hogun, hand me the bandages in your pack."

The three warriors still standing gaped at him for a long moment, before Hogun slid his pack off his shoulders and began rummaging through it for the bandages.

"By the stars," said Volstagg, "what's gotten into _you_?"

Loki didn't answer, just finished helping Sif sit down in the tall grass while peering into her eyes to see how well she was focusing on him. The truth was, he hadn't wanted to come on this stupid "adventure". It was Thor's idea, as always, and as always, he'd managed to convince his little brother that the whole thing would be one grand entertaining jaunt from beginning to end. That conviction had lasted for about five minutes, until he was in the presence of Thor's friends again, and then the headache had started.

He'd been having a lot of headaches lately, around them. He didn't feel ill, and the healers had said there was nothing wrong with him, but he often found himself absolutely exhausted within minutes of encountering any of the so-called Warriors Three. It was little better with Sif, or Thor himself. He liked them well enough, despite their faults, and had no real objection to spending time with them, except that doing so left him absolutely pining for the quiet of his chambers, with a stack of books, a glass of fine wine, and the opportunity not to be seen for a few days.

Or weeks.

Since he couldn't really remember the last time he'd smiled or laughed at much of anything, at this point, he wasn't feeling picky.

The headache was worse, now that he'd ripped them all through time and space to get away from the predators. It was never so difficult to move himself from point to point, but wrapping the seidr around five other living beings, most of whom didn't actually want to be transported, and then moving them all at the same time without crushing or losing anyone, was exponentially more difficult.

"Where did you bring us, anyway?" said Sif. Her eyes were barely open, and he did not at all like the way she was slurring her words.

"The Tandoor Prairie," he replied, quietly so as not to agitate the headache both of them no doubt had. "Once I've gotten you all tended to, I'll take a quick look around and get my bearings, then aim us toward the nearest settlement."

"I thought there weren't any settlements here," said Hogun.

"None permanent, no," Loki said. "At least not on the prairie itself. The elves of this part of the world are generally nomadic. But they have hunting camps where they will stay for up to three months at a time before they follow the herds onward, and at the edge of the prairie, where the forest begins, there are a few true villages and towns. They don't like to show those to outsiders, though."

"You sound like our old geography tutor," muttered Thor, and Loki rolled his eyes.

"Perhaps if you ever opened a book, once in a while, you would know these things, and also know what a stupid idea it was to go into Alfheim's jungles in search of a trophy."

"Who is the bickering fishwife now?"

"Who is the pouting _child_?" Loki demanded.

"Both of you shut up," said Sif. "Find me a place to sleep off this headache or I'll give you one to match."

"You have a concussion, Sif," said Loki quietly. "I am concerned over whether or not you should sleep at all for a few hours."

"Ugh."

"Indeed."

It was the work of a few minutes to bandage Sif's head, while Hogun did the same for Voltagg's arm and Thor sulked. Loki ignored him, and tended to Fandral next. He was no healer, and his energy had been especially low lately, but he was still able to reach delicate tendrils of seidr into Fandral's energy body and search for any indications of injury that his eyes might not catch: internal bleeding, brain injury, a hidden broken bone. Fortunately, all he spotted were three cracked ribs and the concussion he already knew about, but it was not severe and should heal on its own with enough bed rest. The real question, of course, was whether or not Thor would leave the man alone long enough to get that rest; Fandral was terrible about following nearly anywhere Thor led, even when he knew it was a bad idea.

Loki swayed dizzily when he stood up, and the headache stabbed into the space behind his eyes, but he still had enough energy for a quick shape shift; there was a flurry of feathers and a sharp call, and a large magpie flew away from their camp and up into the sky.

 

 

* * *

The elves, with their sensitivity to magic, spotted Loki before he spotted them; they sent up a flare of seidr but were very clearly not aiming for him, so he followed its trajectory down in a lilting series of drops and turns, just as clearly making himself visible in the shape-shifted equivalent of approaching with his hands away from his sides. When he was the right distance from the ground, he got his feet under him and shifted back into his usual form, jogging a few steps until he got his balance back; then he waited politely for the elves to approach.

"Ah, it is Loki of Asgard!" Two of the elves were dressed as hunters, but the one who greeted him had the feathered hair ornaments and face tattoos that marked her as a shaman, one Loki had met before. "Great is my luck!"

"And my luck is great indeed to see Miiran of Cor Caan again," he said, bowing with the hand gestures that the elves considered polite between users of seidr. "But poor is my luck that I must come to you in need."

"Ask, Loki, and it shall be yours, you know that." Miiran drew closer, and paused, looking Loki over with frown. "Your hands seem full, my friend."

Loki ignored that as a polite nothing; the elves had said similar things to him before, but never seemed willing to explain what they meant by it. "Full enough, I suppose. My brother and our friends were in the jungles, and encountered predators; I pulled us away, but three of our number are wounded. I would seek a place of rest before we return to Asgard." Of course, that would depend on whether or not Thor would allow them to return to Asgard without getting their trophy, but that was a discussion for another time.

"The jungles are far from here," said Miiran. "It is no wonder you appear weary, if you have traveled so far so quickly."

"We did not wander the prairie," said Loki. "I was able to use the Paths Between to bring us to safety. But I would not disturb your hunting if it can be helped. This is the lean season, is it not?"

"We hunt to provide for our forest families before the snows come," Miiran nodded. She tipped her head thoughtfully. "If you were to hunt with us, the debt would be balanced. Is that agreeable to you?"

"I cannot speak for my friends, of course," Loki replied, "but it is agreeable to me at least, and may be so to them as well."

Miiran smiled, and said something to the hunters standing behind her, too fast for Loki to follow; they slid their spears into sheaths on their backs and looked back at them both expectantly.

"Lead the way," said Miiran, and shifted her shape into something like an elongated hunting hound, with a brindled coat that blended in perfectly with the tall grasses of the prairie. Loki glanced at the hunters, but they did not seem at all fazed by the shift, so he quickly regained his magpie form and took to the air.

* * *

 

"It is about time you returned," said Thor when Loki reappeared in their clearing. "Sunset will be upon us soon, and we have nothing to make a fire."

"Not without burning the entire prairie, in any case," said Volstagg. "Were you able to find one of the camps you spoke of?" He said it, to Loki's ear at least, as if he were doubtful that Loki would have succeeded, or even that he'd actually gone to look rather than laze about out of sight somewhere.

Loki sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, only now realizing that his headache had actually vanished for a time and was on its way back again.

"I brought help," he said shortly, and left it at that.

"What help? There is no one—oh." The elves could move through the grass like fish through water, and those were the ones who weren't even proper hunters. These glided into the clearing on silent feet, actually startling Hogun into reaching for his weapon.

"Miiran of Cor Caan, highest-ranking shaman of the Cor Caan region, and two of her hunters, who have not deemed it necessary to share their names; Miiran, these are my brother Thor, Hogun of Vanaheim, the one with the wounded arm is Volstagg, the lady is Sif, and the unconscious one is Fandral." Loki looked him over with a frown. "Has he stirred at all?"

"Not yet," said Sif. "My head is beginning to recover, at least."

"I am glad to hear it. Miiran, if you would be… Miiran?"

The shaman and both hunters were standing at the edge of th clearing where they'd first appeared, unmoving. Miiran was glancing back and forth between Loki and all the other warriors with a look similar to disgust on her face; Loki had never seen such an expression from her before, and the hunters looked no different.

"Miiran, is something wrong?"

"I see why your hands are so full," she said, curling her lip. "Theirs are empty."

Loki looked over to see that, in fact, none of them was holding a weapon at the moment; but then, neither was he. "I… am sure they will fill their hands soon enough, Miiran, once we are underway."

"I would not want them to," said the shaman. She would not even look at Loki's friends, which was… distressing. "Tell them to gather their things."

"We can hear you," muttered Volstagg, but Miiran did not respond. She gestured, and the two hunters went over to where Fandral lay and knelt beside him.

"He'll need to be carried carefully," said Loki; "he has three cracked ribs. I've dressed them as best I could, but—"

"Of course you have," said Miiran, smiling at him at last… but it almost seemed as though there was something pitying in her expression, which Loki did not understand at all.

* * *

 

The walk back to the village was awkward, to say the least; rather than speak to any of the Aesir, Miiran turned back into her hound form and loped on ahead, clearing a path through the tall grass for the hunters to follow. Between them, they carried Fandral on a stretcher they had made from their spears and Thor and Loki's cloaks. The Aesir followed behind, Sif leaning on Hogun, and the remaining three bringing up the rear.

"What did you say to them to upset them?" asked Volstagg.

Loki sighed. "I didn't. We exchanged greetings, I asked for help, they gave it willingly."

"Perhaps you ought to have flattered her more," said Thor. "Women like that sort of thing."

Loki rolled his eyes and did not answer.

* * *

 

Arriving at camp was less awkward, but no less strange; first, Miiran shifted back into elf form, and Thor joked that even her animal form was more manly than Loki's. Then the hunters came into view with Fandral between them, and they were swarmed by elves wanting to know who these strangers were and what had happened…

…and then they got a good look at the Aesir and froze.

Children, who had been running up to say hello to the returning party, stopped dead and ducked back behind nearby adults, their eyes wide. "Mama, look how empty their hands are," they heard one say.

"Look how _full_ that one's hands are!" piped another.

Mothers murmured into their children's ears and led them away, or physically pulled them back from approaching any closer. The adults, for their part, gathered into little knots and stared, whispering and looking the Aesir up and down like they were doing something far more scandalous than just walking through an encampment.

"No, really, what did you say?" asked Volstagg.

"Not a thing," said Loki. It was hard to puzzle out this business with full hands and empty hands; Loki carried no weapons, but Hogun and Sif bore their spears, Thor's hand rested on his axe, and Volstagg had his shield on his good arm rather than slinging it across his back and aggravating the wound on his shoulder. Yet they looked at Loki every time they mentioned having full hands; Loki recalled the greeting Miiran had given him, and wondered if there were something more than mere courtesy behind the words.

* * *

 

Miiran tended to Fandral, then sent for Sif, while the hunters set up a place for the other Aesir to sleep. Loki was assisting with arranging the cushions of dried grasses and brightly-colored blankets, when an old woman came up to him and took him by the elbow.

"Your hands are too full to be doing such things," she said, trying to lead him away.

"Where do you wish to take me?" he asked, but she just tutted at him.

"You come lie down. You rest. Your hands are too full; let them with the empty hands tend to their own beds."

"Gleheer is right," said another old woman. "You come lie down; let us feed you while you rest."

"I-I don't understand," said Loki, and out of the growing twilight, there loomed Thor, his arms folded.

"I, too, wish to understand this," he said, scowling a little. Anyone in Asgard would have been intimidated by the sheer size of the man, combined with that expression, but the old women were unfazed.

"We were not speaking to _you,_ Empty Hands," said one. "Go carry your own burdens, and leave this one to us."

Loki looked over his shoulder a little helplessly at Thor, and allowed the women to lead him away.

* * *

 

They fed him soup, rich with meat and vegetables, and cooked flat bread on the stones beside the fire while he watched, and gave it to him to dip in the soup while it was still hot enough to burn his fingers. One old woman wrapped him in a blanket that she told him she had woven herself as a bridal gift to her husband, who had passed three centuries prior; it was worn soft as down, and nearly as warm, and the colors on it were still bright.

When a third old woman began to sing to him and card her fingers through his hair, Loki tensed.

"Truly, ladies, I appreciate the kindness you have shown me, but I do not understand why you do so."

"Do you not?" The ladies looked sidelong at one another, an entire conversation seeming to take place in their expressions without a word being spoken. "As full as your hands are?"

Again, that phrase. Loki set the bowl down and held his hands out to them. "Even when I hold nothing, you all say that. And when my friends are carrying weapons, or their packs, or any other thing, still you say that their hands are empty. I do not understand."

"Hm. Well. That explains much," sniffed one of them.

"The Aesir call themselves warriors but they are not as sharp as they once were," said another.

To Loki, despite his protests, they said only that they would explain it after he had had a chance to rest.

* * *

 

Shouting woke him the next morning.

"I demand to see my brother!" Thor. Loki sighed. Of course it was.

"You will see him when he is ready to see you," said an elf, and Loki recognized the voice of one of the old women who had tended to him the night before.

Loki did not put it past Thor to bully his way even past an old woman, so he threw the blankets off and stood. "What are you yelling about now, brother?" he called, or tried to, but his voice was hoarse from lack of use and he barely croaked out the words.

He was coughing his throat clear when Thor spotted him and barreled past the old woman. "Where did you go? Why did you say nothing before leaving us behind?"

"Behind—what are you talking about, the ladies took me off to talk and then I fell asleep." Loki squinted in the morning sunlight. "You were right there. What has gotten into you?"

"Do not tell me you merely _fell asleep,_ brother, I have no patience for your stories. You have been missing for three days!"

"Three— _what?_ " He turned to stare at the elves in confusion, but they simply smiled; one of them even patted him on the cheek.

"We told you that you needed rest," she said fondly. Then her face drew down into a scowl and she added, "Tell Empty Hands that if he had not awakened you so rudely, you would be sleeping still, as you deserve."

Loki frowned, thinking. "You said you would explain something to me, once I awoke," he said after a moment. "Would you be willing to do that now?"

"Hm. You have only just now gotten out of bed. First, you should go relieve yourself, and then come back to break your fast." She glared over her shoulder at Thor briefly, then turned back to Loki with a smile. "You may tell all the Empty Handed Ones to come and sit and listen, if they are capable of it, and we will tell you what we mean."

* * *

 

Thor, predictably, followed Loki to the latrine.

"Do you mind," Loki asked irritably, unfastening his trousers.

"Were you really asleep for the past three days?"

"I have no idea. I only just woke up. Given how badly I need to _piss,_ I would believe it to be true. And really, stop staring at it. I'm supposed to be the one who chases men."

"Wh—you—"

"According to Volstagg. And Fandral. And anyone who listens to their blathering."

"Stop distracting me." Thor folded his arms and tried to look intimidating, but after the way the old women had completely ignored him, Loki was not terribly impressed. "Loki, you went off with them and we did not see you after that. No one would tell us where you were. No one would speak to us, at all! They set our food down at a distance and backed away from us as if we were wild animals."

"Well, perhaps they've seen the way Volstagg eats."

"You're not funny." Thor looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice before leaning in toward Loki—who was _not_ finished with his business and glared at his brother until he backed off—and asking, "Do you know why they treat us so poorly? Did you say something to them to—"

"No." Loki sighed heavily, and tucked himself away, fastening his trousers. "No, I said nothing to them to incur any sort of odd treatment, and I really wish you and your friends would stop making baseless accusations. Miiran and I are old acquaintances and have crossed paths many times. We are on good terms and always have been. I have no idea what inspired her to look at you the way she did when I first introduced you, and have had no opportunity to find out. Apparently I've been asleep the entire time we've been here."

"And that concerns me as well, brother." Thor gripped Loki's shoulder, harder than he needed to as always, and began to steer him back toward the main encampment. "Are you ill? Why did you say nothing?"

"I am not ill. The healers say not, anyway. I am merely tired."

Thor stopped, and stared at Loki for long enough that it became annoying.

"What?"

"You never complain, Loki," said Thor. "For you to admit to being a little under the weather, is to find yourself at the brink of death from illness. For you to claim you are 'merely tired' as you do now, makes me wonder how terribly fatigued you must actually be."

Loki shook off Thor's hand and rolled his eyes, stalking through the grass without speaking.

His headache was coming back, and he was already in the mood to go back to sleep.

* * *

 

The Aesir joined Loki for breakfast, and a more awkward and stilted affair Loki could not recall having seen in all his days at court. Miiran sat on his right side, two of the old elven women on his left, and all of them glared daggers at Thor and his friends.

"Fandral," Loki greeted, trying to stand before the old women pulled him gently back down again. "Are you well?"

"Aye, I'm fine," said the man. "I slept nearly as long as you did, but the shaman says I'm almost completely recovered."

"I am glad to hear it."

There was a long silence, everyone waiting for Miiran or one of the elves to say something, but none of them spoke.

Finally Volstagg opened his mouth. "So while we were being treated like plague victims, you were being pampered by elvish grandmothers, hm?"

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. "I wouldn't know. I was asleep."

"You need to stop speaking," said Miiran to Volstagg, so coldly that it startled Loki.

"Miiran?" he asked, then more quietly, "Shaman? Have we offended?"

" _You_ have not, Loki. You are a friend to Cor Caan and always have been. But your hands are very full."

"Everyone keeps saying that," he complained, and Thor interrupted.

"And everyone likewise complains that our hands are empty. We are warriors of Asgard. Insult us again and you will see just what we carry in our hands."

"You are warriors of Asgard, and you are idiots," said one of the old women.

"Gedreth." Another old woman rested her hand atop the knee of the first. "They are Aesir. They've forgotten what we know from childhood."

"I know, Gleheer, but I still do not think it excuses them. No one should have hands so empty as theirs."

"Could someone _please_ explain that phrase," said Loki wearily.

"I, too, wish to understand the meaning of it," said Sif.

"As do I." "And I."

Miiran nodded, and took a slow, deep breath. "Loki needs to be separated from you," she said.

"What!"

"You cannot see what we see. The Aesir are not as sensitive to magic as the elves are, though I think perhaps you were, once. And what we see is the way your power is balanced within you. Your life energy, you might say."

"What does that have to do with our hands?" Loki asked.

Miiran looked skyward for a moment, lips pursed as she thought. "Your power—anyone's power—belongs to you and you alone. You carry your power, as we perceive it, in your hands. It is your own life, your very soul, which you carry, and it is right and proper that you do so. You are responsible for it, and for what you do with it."

"All right, but why are our hands supposedly empty?" asked Fandral.

"When your life is saved by another's actions, a piece of your power goes to them. It becomes added to the life they already carry, and lightens your own burden somewhat. We can look around, in this very camp, and see hunters who have been saved by others, and healers who have saved many lives. Their hands are full of pieces of the lives of others, but," and now her expression darkened, the tattoos on her face giving her a fearsome visage, " _none_ of us has empty hands as you do."

"How would our hands become empty, as you put it?" Sif wanted to know.

"Aye, and how would Loki's hands be full, of all people? He is the least warrior-like of all of us!" Volstagg laughed, but subsided nervously when no one else joined in.

Loki sighed, knowing that none of them would believe him, but needing to speak. "When we fought those predators in the jungle, I threw a dagger to kill one of the beasts that was leaping at Thor's back, him all unaware of its presence. After I saw that Fandral was down, there were two of the beasts trying to drag him off, and I used a blast of magic to knock them away."

Miiran nodded. "Two lives saved, within the span of only a few minutes. And to answer your question, Sif, one's hands always carry one's life, or at least some portion of it—unless one has given it all away, piece by piece, to be carried by others instead."

"But come," said Thor, "we all do battle together. Surely we have saved one another's lives, many times."

Miiran's eyes narrowed. "Clearly, there is not much balance between you. If you were worthy battle-mates to Loki, you would have protected him as often as he has protected you. But to our eyes, it is obvious that that is not the case. To us, your hands are empty. You have literally thrown your lives away, piece by piece, in one reckless adventure after another, to be saved again and again by Loki and added to his burden. His hands are _too_ full. He carries his own life and all of yours as well."

"How lazy you must be," said Gleheer, "how irresponsible, that you cannot even be bothered to carry your own lives, nor to protect them as you should."

"How dangerous that makes you," added Gedreth. "For now you have no lives of your own; you are barely alive at all, and you reach out with your empty hands to grasp and claw at any life that comes near you."

"That is not true!" said Volstagg, but one of the old women actually hocked and spat into the fire.

"No? Are you blind as well as grasping, then?"

"There is a reason we do not allow our children near you," said Miiran. "You would demand their attention, their time, and though you may not realize it, you would be hoping all the while that they would be able to fill the emptiness you have from carrying nothing of your own lives."

Gleheer nodded, her eyes heavy-lidded and unimpressed. "A well-timed dagger throw one moment; a successful escape in another. Tending to your wounds. Preventing you from further foolishness. All the little ways that Loki has protected your lives, and how do you repay him?"

"Look how exhausted Loki is, from carrying such a burden," added Gedreth. "Look how tiresome he finds it merely to be in your presence for any length of time. When was the last time Loki laughed with you, or near you? When was the last time you saw him smile? But you do not care. Your lives are not in your own hands anymore and so you see nothing, and force Loki to see all for you."

"Brother, is this true?" asked Thor. "You… you said you were fatigued, before…"

"I am always tired, Thor." There did not seem to be any point in denying it. "I prefer to be alone. When you are near, you always manage to convince me to join you on your adventures—"

"That is a craving on both your parts to give the lives back to their proper owners," put in Miiran.

"—but after only a few minutes in your presence I find myself weary once more. My head aches. Nothing is…" He looked away, hating that he must admit this weakness. "Nothing is enjoyable. Even the food I eat has largely lost its savor. I cannot remember, as the lady says, how long it has been since I laughed at anything."

Gedreth nodded, scowling. "Keep up your foolishness, you who call yourselves his friends. Force him to carry your lives, and you will smother him under the burden until he can feel nothing at all, neither joy nor sorrow nor anger. And even that is not enough to satisfy you, for you also follow him everywhere, or demand that he follow you, and you claw into his spirit with your empty, empty hands!"

The silence that fell over the gathered warriors and elves was absolute. Loki could hear only the wind hissing through the tall grass, beyond the bounds of the encampment.

"What can we do?" asked Hogun finally. "We cannot undo a battle."

"You give Loki time to rest," said Miiran. "Separate him from all of you for a while, and cease your never-ending attempts to throw your own lives away. In time, the pieces will begin to return to their rightful owners."

"You give to Loki, as he has given to you," said Gleheer. "Take your burden off his hands, as he has lessened yours so many times."

"Care for him," added Gedreth. "Has he not cared for you? Defended your lives and healed your wounds? Care for him, and you feed his soul with your own, rather than forcing him to carry it with nothing to feed him or repay his efforts."

* * *

 

"Are you sure you will be all right here?" Thor asked, as the other warriors gathered their things to return home. "You said before that the winter snows would be coming soon. Will there be enough food here?"

"We shall see." Loki finished going through his own belongings, tucking what he would not need into Thor's pack. "I can't believe you actually agreed to leave me behind."

"Don't say it like that. It sounds like we are abandoning you."

"I know you are not."

"Will you be all right here?" Fandral came up behind them, and Loki shook his head as Thor chuckled.

"I just asked him the same thing," he said.

Fandral clapped his hands on Loki's shoulders twice, then stepped back. "The elves said my hands were not completely empty, and that I might be welcome to come find you in the springtime," he said, then turned to Thor. "But don't expect me to  do all the things for you louts that Loki does. You are on your own if you want to go adventuring, for the next two seasons at least!"

Loki frowned at that, looking back and forth between them. "What will you do in the meantime?" he asked.

Sif looked up from where she was rolling up her bedroll.  "The elf shaman suggested that we might look into the history of Asgard, something about the magic that makes us so much stronger than the mortals. That there might be a way for us to see the debts we owe one another, the way the elves are able to do."

Hogun stood, hoisting his pack onto his back. "Perhaps if we can see the balance, we can maintain it better," was all he said, but he looked at Loki with an appraising expression that Loki did not recall seeing before.

"We shall see," said Loki again.

He walked with them beyond the outskirts of the elf hunting camp, and led them to a clearing where the Bifrost would not set fire to the tall grass of the prairie. Thor dragged him into an embrace, and he fought a sigh.

"Be well, brother," said Thor heartily; "I shall ask after you often."

"Thank you, brother."

"Be well, Loki."

"Enjoy the company of the elf grandmothers!" laughed Fandral.

"Be well," said Sif.

"Aye, and… make sure you eat something," added Volstagg uncomfortably. "Skin and bones, you are." Well, at least he was trying.

"Be well," said Loki in return.

He stepped back as Thor turned his face to the sky. "Heimdall, open the Bifrost!"

As the beam of light came down, a magpie rose into the air, winging its way back to the elven camp.

* * *

 

Six months later, Thor and his companions landed at the edge of a massive forest, near another camp they had never seen before.

The first thing they saw when the light cleared was a magpie and a hound, chasing one another around the clearing.

The first thing they heard was Loki's quiet laughter.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nothing Is Nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807560) by [Shi_Toyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu)




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